Page 45 of Forbidden Bond

She still hasn’t looked at me.

“You don’t say,” I drawl. “Tell me, Katherine. What were you thinking last night? You came to my house and practically threw yourself at me, because…?”

She flinches, either at my words or at my tone.

“I don’t know!” she yells, whirling around to face me. “I was trying to punish my father! And sleeping with you was the worst thing I could think of doing in the moment.”

My lips curve into a smirk. I stare at her for several long moments, feeling sick and betrayed all at once.

“You used me,” I state.

“No,” she says softly as tears well up in her eyes. “It was a mistake. I told you it was a mistake.”

“All my life, people have either hated me because of my last name, or they’ve used me to get what they wanted. Apart from my family, those are the only two types of people I’ve encountered. And you just became one of them.”

Her breath hitches. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

That makes me chuckle. “You didn’t hurt me, princess. It’s like you said, I knew it was a mistake and I did it anyway. Unlike you, I didn’t do it to piss off my father, I did it because I wanted to. Because I wanted to prove to myself that I could.”

I see the moment she realizes what I’m trying to say. My words are cruel and biting and absolute lies—and they have the desired effect.

“You’re saying sleeping with me was some sort of conquest,” she says dully.

“I’m saying ultimately, we both used each other. Leave, Katherine. I would show you to the door, but I’m a little indecent.”

She’s hurt; I can tell she’s hurt but she’s trying to pretend she’s not. She stares me down, standing tall despite the way her hands shake.

“I’ll see myself out.”

My jaw is clenched as she walks out without a backward glance. My hand twitches and I curl it into a fist, resisting the urge to go after her and tell her I was wrong.

Because I wasn’t fucking wrong. She used me, and I wasn’t about to let her go on thinking her actions hurt me or had any effect on me whatsoever. Something cold settles and presses against my chest as I grit my teeth.

I knew. I knew from the start getting involved with Katherine Malone was a mistake. And I did it anyway because I couldn’t stay away.

We both made mistakes. And now we’ve got to live with them.

* * *

My keys jangle from my hand as I head into my mother’s apartment building. She summoned me a few days ago and I can’t avoid her anymore. She threatened to literally barge into my place of work and drag me by the ear to her car. And knowing my mamma, she wasn’t playing about that. I raise a hand to greet the capo that’s been assigned to her protection detail. He’s usually around the building to make sure she doesn’t run into any danger. Mom hates his presence, but she hasn’t got any choice. The wife of a former Don is just as vulnerable even after his death.

The elevator ride takes only two minutes, and in those two minutes, my mind flashes to the image of Katherine’s face when I asked her why she doesn’t like elevators. She was scared, frightened even, which means there’s more to it than I’ll probably ever know. I’ll always be curious, though.

She keeps up such a strong front all the time. What could make a woman like her scared?

By the time I arrive at my mother’s door, the easy expression on my face and my light mood have vanished. Thoughts of Katherine have altered my mood entirely. technically, I’m not angry at Katherine. When I think about how things went down between us, all I feel is this ache in my chest. We slept together for the wrong reasons.

It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done that, and I doubt it’ll be the last. The situation with Katherine doesn’t have to be special. When my mom opens the door, however, I force a smile, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“There’s my favorite lady,” I say, brushing past her into the house. I raise an eyebrow at her appearance. “What are you up to, mamma?”

She pats down on the front of her apron, cleaning off puffs of something white. I’m guessing it’s flour. There’s some on her face, as well. She lets out an irritated sigh as she heads into the kitchen and I follow. There are several cracked eggs on the counter, sugar everywhere, and basically, it’s a disaster.

I arch an eyebrow with a smile.

“Oh, shut it, Topher. Baking’s not as easy as I thought it would be,” she mutters, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms.

I chuckle. “What even brought this on? You’ve never wanted to spend any time in the kitchen before.”

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